The police don’t do much of anything these days, if you haven’t noticed. It’s like they’re only around for decor. At least some of them are handsome.
Ah, right. Can I just call them useless whims? I am pretty sure the criminals like this, but the other civilians would be bothered. It seems like people nowadays do not know how to take care of their jobs.
Their looks are the last of my concern, really.
I bet the city is just undergoing an antisocial funk. Usually happens after tax season or sightings of a murderous criminal. Fun stuff.
Ugh, tax season, one of the worst seasons next to Summer.
Blimey, a murderous criminal! How terrible. The police should do something about it.
Why is it so awfully quiet? Where are the people?
Mia stared morosely down at her nearly empty glass of water and nodded. She was growing up- already had in more respects than she’d cared to- but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to taking autonomy of it herself. She’d always prided herself on being able to decipher basically anything. There were no games she couldn’t plow through on her own terms without cheats, no computer issues she couldn’t fix without a little elbow grease and a lot of Google and even the inscrutable world known as communicating with small children had succumbed to her mastery of all things that existed. But, again, adulthood was a too big of an issue to strictly quantify and Mia didn’t have the know-how to tackle it without help. Which she hated. A lot.
And it was weird, too, because she did have the option. Mia knew how to ask for help for other people, and she knew how to respond when asked, but even steeping in adult support, she wasn’t too keen on dipping into it. She could figure out taxes and jobs and sucking it up when things went wrong, and, dammit, she could figure it out without help, but then there were bills and education and, ugh, mandatory relationships. It was diabolical.
Not that she would ever tell anyone that. Sure, she’d say she wasn’t looking forward to adulthood, but when it suited her she would swear up and down that she was grown up enough. It was going to be one of her trump cards when she asked for a spandex allowance.
“But if you could go, would you?” Mia asked, carding her fingers through her hair that remained unrestrained in an unconscious mirror of Andromeda. “Without any other obligations, I mean.”
The waitress came over and filled her cup, gathering the empty plates and utensils before she left for the kitchen again. She didn’t make an effort to hide passive aggressive glances towards Andromeda, but Mia smiled amiably at her and drummed her fingers on the table in a tiny, staccato beat in time with the restaurant’s music until she turned her back to them again.
“That really sad.” Mia frowned thoughtfully before the words sunk in and her eyes. “Oh my god, that was really insensitive. Sorry.” She looked a little redfaced, which was pretty much a staple of her embarrassment, and sunk into the booth a bit. In an attempt to sooth her wounded conversation skills, she added, “You’re clients sound like jerks.”
Stepping onto adulthood would mean that you have to make your our decisions. When she was young, Andromeda never had the chance to make her own. Her father would have done it, but Andromeda was not the type of daughter to cower behind her dad. That was why she became a vigilante then… you know. She made bad choices along the way, but she fixes them. Her job requirements also mean that she had to come in terms with her intuition —which Andromeda thought she was doing well.
Was Andromeda began to think of her life choices? Maybe but she didn’t regret a few parts of it. Sitting right across her was a girl so determined, despite her disadvantage or disease, Mia still wanted to be a good person. Even if she had all the motives to be the a bad guy, she didn’t. Andromeda better keep a sharp eye for this girl. Only god knows whether Mia would be Andromeda’s biggest foe.
“Of course, I would!” Andromeda smiled as she looked down on her coffee. “The obligations are just these stupid speed bumps of hope.” Did that make sense? “I love studying. I love learning new things. But running the Radke Company calls for sacrifices and sadly, it has to be my education.” How upsetting was that? Andromeda could still learn by reading books or asking a few of her father’s colleagues, but that was it.
Andromeda couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. The girl was adorable after all. “It’s alright. Don’t worry,” she smiled. The black coffee powder was tainting the inside of the white mug. Andromeda began tilting the mug back and forth so that the coffee would mix with the powder.
The words of Mia began sinking in. “They are jerks, but I have to keep them,” another chuckle continued. “As cheap as this sounds. I need their money and their loyalty to keep the company going.” She threw a slight ‘you know what I mean’ face towards Mia. “And they don’t exactly like snarky comments or some jokes along the way. They don’t appreciate my sense of humor and that sucks.”
Andromeda stretched herself while letting out a huff of air through her nose. “I’m glad you are giving me this break from my daily life. To spend it with a nice girl is also wonderful,” Andromeda thanked Mia. “I never thought that spending time with another girl would be this refreshing. I can stop looking at stupid wrinkles and moustaches of my clients for once.”
“Hush now. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” It was a promise that Harley couldn’t possibly keep, but Christ if she wasn’t going to do every last thing in her power to fight to get the young woman out in one piece. There was nothing wrong with Andromeda, she knew it from the first time she’d flitted over her file. Her presence here was…wrong. Harley knew only too well what it was like to be judged before a pre-decided jury. And it hurt. Especially when that jury was lead by your father, the man meant to protect you. Perhaps it was how much of herself she saw mirrored in Andromeda, perhaps she just cared about all of her patients, but whatever the reason it was becoming clear the young woman had an ally in her new Doctor.
“Listen, sugar, I’m not going to medicate you just because I can.” Harley reassured. “When I talk about pills it’s for people who genuinely need them. You can’t possibly make any progress if I just dope you up. That’s a fast track to an indefinite stay here; personally I want you back out there,” she jerked her head towards the window “As soon as possible. Because this…all of this…it’s just a game you know. A game played by an asshole. Sorry to speak that way about your Dad, but…if he couldn’t at least sit you down and try talking things through…well then it’s his loss.”
Hopefully her words would come out as comforting and not just flat up insulting. Harley never had been one to sugar coat her sentiments, especially around people she truly respected. “I have to be honest with you, sugar. I don’t like the word crazy one little bit. But…no, your story doesn’t sound the least bit suspect to me.” Reaching out, she patted her hand “If you want, we really don’t even have to talk about the bad things. We can focus the good things in your life. Do you have any friends on the outside? Anyone that could speak out on your behalf?”
It was a thought. If she was willing to speak at a commitment hearing in favour of Andromeda’s sanity along with several people that knew her, than there was a good chance she could be out before the end of the season if they acted fast. “I want to do all I can to help you. I promise you that. I’m not going to give up, Andromeda. Not until you’re out again. Where you should be.”
Andromeda was beginning to ease up, but it was still an uncomfortable meeting. Not because Andromeda didn’t like Dr. Quinzel —she was the single sane person Andromeda had encountered here— it was because Andromeda always let her guard up. She would always become paranoid amongst new surroundings or environment. This may be because she was raised this way, to be very vigilant, that her consequence would her dull adaptability.
“My dad IS an asshole,” Andromeda rolled her eyes, glad to hear somebody thought of the same thing. She didn’t even hold back saying it. “You’re not wrong. He is one. I just never said that because that would mean more dirty and disgraceful coverage for me. The media agrees with him because he has the power to make them do whatever they want. Money is practically what makes the people side with my father.”
“I don’t like the word crazy either, Dr. Quinzel. I heard it so many times on loop that I want to vomit every time I hear it,” she placed her palm on her face. “It’s a common word here but nobody ever likes it.”
Friends, huh? Andromeda thought.
“I don’t have that many friends. I was afraid that they may use me for my money,” she scoffed. That doesn’t mean she didn’t have friends. Se does, but they were just a handful. “My closest childhood friend is Sylvan Scofield, though. We still keep in touch. Other than that my friends come and go. Do you know her?”
Was she going to spend all of her life here? Andromeda was genuinely thankful that Dr. Quinzel sounded like she really wanted to help Andromeda. To help her get out of this wretched place. But what are the odds? She probably said that to numerous of other patients to make them feel safer, more comfortable, or maybe so it would be easier for them to open up. Andromeda tried her best to give out information, little by little, so that she wouldn’t sound like she was giving a speech about her life to Dr. Quinzel, but she still kept things to herself.
“I appreciate that, Dr. Quinzel,” Andromeda smiled. “Bless your soul.” She ended her sentence with a long pause. This would be a good time for Andromeda to ask a few things from the lovely doctor. “Can I ask you something? I mean, I answered your questions, but maybe you can answer some of mine?”
I think, for me anyway, music and film is where you can really transport yourself to another universe.